


Revelations

by sueKay04



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-01 19:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sueKay04/pseuds/sueKay04
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For some of our characters, the Stargate has always been present in their lives, for others, we witnessed them learning of the Stargate's existence before our very eyes. But what about the characters who made the greatest discovery of all without us there to see it? This is the story of the SG1 and Atlantis teams dealing with learning the impossible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Teal'c

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! First new fic in a while, and it's probably one that's been done before (though if it has, I've never seen one).
> 
> This story will focus on the feelings of the extended SG1 and SGA teams upon learning of the existence of the Stargate. For those characters whose discovery of the gate was shown in the shows, I've opted to extend those scenes slightly, and for the characters who have always known about the Stargate, I've put together chapters in which they contemplate life without the Stargate, or contemplate their feelings regarding the Tau'ri.
> 
> Each piece is written in the first person, and each chapter will focus on a different character.

**Teal'c**

**August 1997**

The look of wonder on their faces is not one that I am accustomed to.

I am used to scared eyes as we would take humans to their new lives in our work camps, or indifference as we would travel to another world to visit a market.

But these Tau'ri are new to the Galaxy. New to the Chapa'ai and the life it entails. For so long now the Chapa'ai has just been there, engrained in our lives. The thought of it not dominating every aspect of who we are is as alien to me as my very existence is to theirs.

A journey through a wormhole to another world is no more exciting to the average Jaffa than a ride in one of their automobiles is to them.

I watch in mild amusement at their awestruck expressions every time the Stargate is activated.

They have decided that they understand the awesome power of this device, and it shows, the atmosphere of importance and pride in the work intensifying every time the Gate Room is bathed in the glow of the puddle.

I remember feeling that myself, though it was many years ago when my father regaled to me the story of how the Chapa'ai came to be, and I was first forced to imagine my life without the Chapa'ai present.

In Tau'ri terms, I would have been no more than nine years of age. Moska had completed five turns of our sun in my lifetime, and one evening my father had taken me to small grassy hill an hour's walk from home.

We knelt on the ground, dry from the fine summer weather, and chewed on pastries and dried fruits from the market. My father had brought a special treat with him – the Nectar of the Gods. It had been a gift from the great God Cronus to his most loyal Jaffa. A sweet drink made from a plant that could not be grown on Moska, but from the planet Chulak which was under the control of another God – Apophis.

The drink was highly prized and a favourite of Cronus himself. Whenever my father led his troops to victory, a small amount was gifted to him. He would normally share this with my mother, but I had watched with some amusement as he had insisted he had not received any for his service this time.

I giggled as I noticed him sneak it out of the house along with a satchel of foods my mother had bought at the market to celebrate my father's return.

We talked about many things as dusk descended. We discussed my schoolwork, my friends, the girl three houses along whom my father had noticed me gazing at, and many other things.

But as the sky grew black, and the great silken swathe of our galaxy arced from horizon to horizon, my father directed my attention to a point of light like no other I had seen.

I was never the best child in my school, but I did not lack intelligence, and I thought I understood the night sky well. My father had taught me my constellations, and had taught me which stars in the sky had Stargates. He'd explained that the moving points of light were our great ships, pledged to serve Cronus, and to defend us against the other gods that would seek to conquer us.

But this mark in the sky was different.

"It is a comet," my father smiled, answering my silent question.

"A comet?"

"It's a big ball of rock and ice that circles our sun much like our planet does, but it's turns are like an oval, rather than a circle."

I nodded at my father's explanation, but I wondered what made the stunning tail that streaked behind it.

"Because it's turn is oval, it's longer," he continued, "it takes it further from our sun and into the coldness of deep space to where the gas and ice planets are. When it gets closer, it is unaccustomed to our sun's heat, and the ice evaporates into space, giving the comet it's tail."

I nodded once more, my eyes fixed on this object that was like no other I had ever seen.

"I tell you of this comet as it is very special, and your uncle was there not long ago."

"Uncle Tor'nel went to that comet?"

"Yes. He left before the Comet's tail erupted once more. The Comet has many precious elements that our people need to thrive: Gold and Silver for barter or investment; and Naquadah to keep us strong and to make our forces the mightiest in our stars; to name but a few. Without the great God Cronus, we would never have known what a comet was, nor it's value to us, nor would have the means to get there to mine it.

"We have a God who loves us and nurtures us. He walks among us when we need him most, and he teaches us to be strong so that none may challenge us."

I thought about my father's statement for a moment. Never once had I truly thought about what Cronus meant to us, but in that moment my father's assessment rang true, and I felt great pride that our God would guide us in such a manner.

"Now son, I would like you to imagine our world, with no ships, and no Chapa'ai."

That statement pulled at something within my young soul.

"Impossible," I stated.

"For some it is the case," my father said, "There are worlds out there with no ships, and no Chapa'ai. They may look at the stars, but they will never understand them. They will look at a comet, and have no idea what it is. They will live in isolation on their worlds, with no connection to their other brothers and sisters in the Great Black. They cannot possibly live rich full lives like we do. Thanks to Cronus, our lives are full of purpose and full of joy. We reap the bounty of what he has provided us. You would not even have your Nectar, or your supper without him."

I looked at the satchel my father had carried our food in, and it struck me that all the food we consumed had indeed come from the other worlds under Cronus' protection.

"I took you out here tonight to show you the truth of who were are," my father said, a broad grin on his face, "we are so lucky and we must remember that. You must never become jaded by the awe of it all."

My father's words have stuck with me throughout my years. I understood and agreed with all he had said, until that fateful night, when my father would have no more words for me. When our 'God' killed him in a sadistic bout of childish rage, over the loss of an unwinnable battle. My faith in the Goa'uld was dented, and that faith would only proceed to wither and die within me as I grew, aided by talks with my trainer, the former first Prime of Apophis, Bra'tac, as he too had come to doubt the Gods.

But the rest of my father's message still stayed with me. Despite our lowly position, the Jaffa were indeed blessed to have a life in the stars. Blessed to know the riches of other worlds. Never having to ponder the seemingly all-consuming Tau'ri question of whether or not we are alone in this life.

The thought of not knowing the stars was and still is chilling to me, so I watch these Tau'ri closely, as they truly embrace the worlds for the first time. I will remain their ally for so long as I feel they can help my people end the oppression of the Goa'uld, and I will guide them in their travels to these 'strange new worlds' to ensure that I never become jaded with this life, nor ignorant. These Tau'ri know well what a comet is, but their gods did not tell them – they worked it out in their own time and they earned their discovery. Most Tau'ri have religious faith in some way, but they no longer wait for their deities to impart knowledge to them – they seek it out in their own time. Scientific discovery is their truth, and I must endeavour to share this truth with my people.


	2. Sam

**Sam Carter**

**October 1995**

The Doorway works. It actually works.

I'm surprised. Giddy with excitement.

But downright jealous.

It should have been me.

I've been working on the Creek Mountain Project for a little over four years. Studying the device our top scientists told us was called the 'Door to Heaven'. We analysed everything we could about this mysterious stone circle: It's composition was entirely alien, perhaps truly alien. The symbols on it were seemingly untranslatable. We figured it had one of three functions: A weapon that would send people to 'heaven' or 'hell'; a learning tool that would teach us about space; or a method of transportation to the stars.

I'd nearly always bet on the third, and now I knew that I'd been right.

But I never got to see it in action when my hard work paid off.

No, I had to go and get Salmonella which knocked me for six – A week in hospital and a month's rest – Doctor's orders.

When Catherine came by my house to tell me that the Doorway worked – and that it was called a Stargate – I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Apparently some conspiracy nut wrote a paper that Catherine liked the sound of. She brought him onboard, and within two weeks he'd cracked the code our guys have been scratching their heads over for months.

A Colonel O'Neill was drafted in to lead the team when the Conspiracy Theorist agreed to work with us. Apparently they needed someone with the correct clearance who wouldn't hesitate to go on a highly dangerous mission. Don't know why he was picked, but Ferretti says he never cracked a smile the whole time he was on the base – or on the Planet Abydos for that matters.

I haven't had access to the full reports of the mission, and I won't until I'm back at work. All I can do is listen to General West and live vicariously through Catherine who's been dropping by for tea every other day.

It's torture for me being cooped up at home and agonising to know that my sister-in-law's cooking cost me the opportunity of a lifetime.

But I shouldn't mope. The greatest discovery we could ever possibly make has happened!

We are not alone! There are aliens. Real, live aliens, and we've already met them.

I never thought my meeting with General West those few short years ago would have led to anything like this…

* * *

**March 1991**

It was cold March day in Denver, and I had been back in Colorado for only a day or two. I was on downtime following the end of the Gulf War. I was exhausted, mentally and physically, and was trying to get back to normal life. My brother had been in touch to find out how I was doing and rather than just the usual pleasantries, he'd been happy to talk on the phone. We'd had a great talk, and out of the blue, I invited him and his wife over for dinner. Bad idea considering my sister-in-law's a catering manager and the most I ever cook is…well I don't, to be honest.

I had just gotten out of my car and slammed the door shut, arms laiden with groceries, when I saw a Colonel on my porch. He noticed my bags and walked over to help. I didn't know him, but I obliged when he offered to take some of the bags. I walked up the steps and let us both in. As he crossed the threshold into my house, he removed his cover and nodded.

"Colonel West."

"Uh, Lieutenant Carter, sir."

It was a dumb thing to say. Obviously he knew who I was, or he wouldn't be at my door.

Why was he at my door?

"Can I get you something to drink sir?"

"Water would be fine Lieutenant," he smiled at me.

I returned the smile, which I'm certain looked more like a grimace, and headed for my kitchen. As I poured two glasses of water – and made sure my ice cream was in the freezer – my brain did overtime, and I immediately thought of all my friends who I knew had been deployed in the Gulf.

I carried the glasses back through, set them on the coffee table, and sat opposite Colonel West who had made himself at home.

"How can I help you sir?"

West leaned forward, grabbing the glass and taking a sip.

"How are you holding up after the Gulf Lieutenant?"

"Fine sir," I said. It wasn't technically a lie. I wasn't traumatised or shocked. Just very, very tired.

"That's good to hear. You'll also be happy to know that my visit has nothing to do with the Gulf. Actually it's more to do with your specialism."

My specialism. It had been a while since anyone in the Air Force had taken much interest in my specialism – they needed pilots more than physicists.

"My specialism?"

"Yes. We need you to come and join a small, preliminary research team that we've assembled at Creek Mountain. They have a project that could use a fresh pair of eyes and we think you'd be the most suitable candidate."

I was intrigued, and pressed on for more information.

"What kind of project?"

"Need to know."

That definitely got my attention, and West noticed this.

"I wish I could tell you more while we sit here Lieutenant, but if you want to find out, you'll have to come with me to Creek Mountain. If you agree to participate in the project – which I'm sure you will – we might take a little detour to Cheyenne Mountain."

"NORAD? Radar Telemetry?"

West had an odd, almost bemused glint in his eye when I mentioned NORAD, but he made no move to indicate if this project was something related to NORAD or not.

With little else to go on, I made up my mind. My curiosity got the better of me.

"I would be happy to visit Creek Mountain for this research project sir," I smiled.

West smiled and rose from his seat, "I'll give you time to put your shopping away and pack a bag."

"We're going right now sir?"

"Yes," he said, heading for my front door.

I was going to tell him about my plans for the night, but I had a feeling he wouldn't care. Instead I put my shopping away and went upstairs to pack a few essentials. Colorado Springs wasn't all that far away, but knowing the Air Force, I would be gone for days.

While I was upstairs I grabbed my phone and quickly called Mark to explain we'd need to reschedule dinner. Within seconds the warmth of our previous phone call was gone, and replaced by the all too familiar icy tone that Mark would reserve only for dad and I. And once again I found myself apologising to my little brother. He wasn't interested, only asking me to call again soon.

Bags unpacked and packed, Colonel West and I headed to Creek Mountain.

I had no idea how much my life was about to change.

* * *

I'd never been to Creek Mountain before. It was similar to Cheyenne Mountain only much smaller. I had thought it was only ever used for storage, but if this project was Need to Know, maybe I was wrong.

The elevator descended five floors, and we arrived in a dusty corridor. There weren't many signs of life beyond an airman futilely sweeping the floor which was caked with concrete dust, and the sound of a lively debate echoing in a room off to the right.

I could hear a few different accents, one of them Australian and very angry. An airman stood watch at the entrance to the room, and he gave us and apologetic glance as we walked into what appeared to be a small meeting room.

A gaggle of scientists were busy tearing each other asunder in a way only academics can manage. Fists clenched wads of journal papers while fingers pointed in faces and pens were flung about the room.

"You're all crazy!" The Aussie screamed, "I didn't move over here for this. It's batshit crazy. If you want to go to space, go to NASA!"

An older woman who had maintained a dignified silence in the melee looked at the Aussie and calmly responded, "We must keep an open mind. This is new territory for all of us. All possible theories and explanations must be kept on the table…In the meantime, I would prefer if you didn't scare a possible new recruit for the project."

The woman indicated to myself and Colonel West with an open palm. It was only at that time I noticed a General sitting at the back of the room, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Ladies and Gentleman, I'd like to introduce you all to First Lieutenant Samantha Carter. She is a theoretical astrophysicist we're reading into the Project," West said.

I nodded as the woman smiled and stepped closer to me.

"I'm Catherine Langford, head of the Creek Mountain Project. I've heard a lot about you and would like to thank you for agreeing to join us."

I hadn't agreed to join anything, but everything about this situation was growing stranger and stranger, so I merely smiled in response.

The General at the back of the room stood, and slowly walked over to me.

"I'm General Strachan, and I've been given permission from the President to read you into this Project. This Project is top secret, need to know. Ms Langford will get you up to speed, and you will report to the Colonel."

"Yes sir," I said with a hint of confusion.

Top Secret? Permission from the President?

The Australian who had earlier been ranting earlier now hugged his arms to his chest and tutted, glaring at me.

"So this is the respect the US Air Force gives us Catherine? A little girl to help with our science project?"

"I specifically requested the Lieutenant's help Edward," Catherine stated, an edge of anger seeping into her tone, "She would have been here sooner, but this 'little girl' was busy fighting in a war, not busy slowing us down with inane arguments and grandstanding."

Edward seemed to take a telling and skulked off to a chair at the back of the room.

"My apologies," Catherine said.

"Apology accepted Ms Langford,"

"We'll leave you to become acquainted with the research team," General Strachan said, "Catherine will bring you to us when you're ready to go to Cheyenne Mountain."

"Yes sir."

* * *

For the next few hours, Catherine gave me her life story, more or less. About how she had moved from Sweden to the US following her father's discovery of a huge and strange artefact on the Giza Plateau. And how since the early seventies, she had been trying to get the US Military to take a good look at the Doorway, as she called it.

Catherine told me fantastical stories about this artefact. How it was created to make our journey to the stars easier. How it was alien in origin, and how alien remains had been found at the dig site. It was all so fantastical that I wondered how the Air Force had been coerced into working with this sweet, stubborn, but slightly crazy old lady.

Catherine seemed to sense that attitude from me.

"A dreamer I may be, but a lunatic I am not," she told me, "If you're half as smart as people tell me, you'll become a believer too."

I took in everything she was saying, not daring to believe a word of it. But within an hour, with us just walking the corridors, I had to admit, I was beginning to hope her tall tale was true.

* * *

An hour or so later, General Strachan, Colonel West, Catherine and myself arrived at Cheyenne Mountain, and to a world of difference. We stopped at the security checkpoint for all staff on base and went down a shiny corridor gleaming with tiles and data analysts, and boarded an elevator which took us down several levels. We exited the Elevator and arrived at a barren intersect of two corridors. A lone airman sat at a desk logging visitors in and out. After a few moments wait, we boarded another elevator.

This one went much further underground.

Eventually, as the elevator read that we were on Level 28, we exited to more deserted (but much cleaner) corridors.

"You're in the old missile test facility of the mountain now Lieutenant, over half a mile underground, and we're here to show you the artefact the Catherine has no doubt told you all about."

"The Door to Heaven?"

"It's just down this corridor."

We walked for a few more minutes before arriving at a set of blast doors. The guard on duty quickly swiped us in, and Colonel West shouted to another guard.

"Get rid of that tarp!"

I arrived in the room to a flurry of material as a grey tarp was pulled aside to reveal to Door to Heaven in all it's glory.

It was huge, ancient, and alien looking.

"Holy Hannah…That is impressive."

"It will be even more impressive if we can figure out how to work it, with your help," Catherine smiled.

"This Artefact, which the Project team tell us is called the Door to Heaven, is one of the greatest mysteries in human history, and we need our brightest minds working on it," General Strachan informed me, "Catherine was telling you the truth when she said the Doorway was likely of alien origin. It's composed of an element we have not found anywhere on Earth, and we found a little something extra with it, of you'd like to follow me."

I followed the General, leaving West and Catherine in the room with the Doorway, and I gave the circle another look, knowing I had glimpsed something incredibly important.

Soon we were walking down pipe-lined corridors that all looked similar, and I was worried we were getting lost when Strachan turned abruptly.

Two heavily armed guards were watching over something at the dead end of a corridor, and at Strachan's nod, the opened the heavy gate that blocked entry to seeing the artefact.

The artefact was a human skeleton, embedded in rock like a fossil.

"Look perfectly normal at first glance, doesn't it?"

"Yes sir."

"We thought so as well, but biologists disagree. There are subtle differences in the skeleton that hint to this being a different human species than ourselves – The inside of the skull is different to ours. There's an extra rib. The structure of the bone is slightly different too, and do you notice the other skeleton?"

My eyes glanced below it's ribs, and sure enough, there's the skeleton of an animal the size of a small lizard, but it's like nothing I'd ever seen.

"There's no DNA left to help us find out what that was, but every biologist who's examined the animal's skeleton has been completely clueless as to it's origin. There's nothing on earth like it."

I was shocked at this, but everything has an explanation, and I knew I'd only get one if I were to agree to become a part of this project.

"This is incredible sir," I said, buying every word.

"It sure is, so you need to understand our position with this project.

"Catherine Langford has been harassing the US Government for years, asking us to do work on the device. She's convinced it's definitely alien in origin and I've conceded it's a definite possibility. We need to work with her team on this, and if she's right, ensure that the artefact is utilised in the best way possible. At the same time, we need you to suss out if the Project Team are telling us the truth. We have spent an enormous amount of money on this project, and so far, with no reward. We need you to keep us up to speed, and we need you honest opinion to determine if this project is worth the taxpayer's dollar. If you don't think it's worth it, the plug will be pulled. But if you do, and fight for this project, we'll need you to give it your all. Washington's split down the middle on continuing with the research."

* * *

I took General Strachan's words to heart as I began my work on the Doorway, and continued in the same ethos after he was promoted and West took his place.

West was a sceptic, though I knew deep down that he wanted to believe in our work.

As time went on, I became more and more engrossed in the project. Friends stopped calling, Mark told me I was worse than Dad, and Dad? I never saw him anymore. My peers became concerned as I stopped publishing, and one of my mentors from the Air Force Academy wrote to me noting her concern.

None of that stopped me though. The Doorway had the potential to change everything.

I believed in Catherine's theory, that the Doorway was a portal of some kind, and whenever a new face joined the research team, I took great joy in seeing them draw the same conclusions about the artefact.

I requested funding for extra generators and new capacitors, with the idea of hooking the device up to a supercomputer. The capacitors caused consternation, as they had to be made to the specifications I'd drawn up, and it was a lot of extra money to shell out, but their investment was rewarded when I lit up one of the glass-like panels on the device.

They needed more than a light though, so I set to work designing an interface program for the computer. The first prototype picked up multiple types of information being sent from the Doorway. I couldn't interpret what the data meant, but it proved I was headed in the right direction.

As Strachan predicted, Catherine and I had to fight tooth and nail to keep the project going. While I developed the interface, I also spent the best part of two years trying to reach out to those in-the-know at the Pentagon.

In 1995 they finally caved, and gave us a formalised block of funding. Not long after that, I finished developing the interface. I could now get the 'Chevrons' to light up and I could make the inner track move. It seemed to be enough to get me promoted to Captain.

But without having a way to translate the Doorway's symbols, we were at an impasse.

The meaning of the symbols eluded every translator who came to work for us, and eventually fatigue set in to the group as a whole, with many leaving to return to mainstream academia, and salvage their public careers and lives.

By August of '95 our team of thirty had dwindled to seven.

My own doubts started to creep in. My work was done until someone could interpret the symbols, and I yearned for a return to the 'real world'. Catherine was not pleased when I started spending more time away from the project, but she understood, and was happy when I informed her that my brother and I were talking again.

It was early October when Mark and his wife invited me to dinner. I had moved to Colorado Springs, so I took a couple of days off for the visit.

Unfortunately I fell fowl of Vivienne's Roast Chicken, and all three of us ended up with Salmonella. Thankfully my baby niece never got sick.

But the Salmonella kicked the stuffing out of me.

* * *

A week later, as I was about to be discharged from the Air Force hospital, Catherine appeared in my room.

"Sorry for not visiting earlier Sam."

"It's no problem Catherine, I know how busy you are-"

"We've made a breakthrough," she said, trying her hardest not to grin.

"Really?"

"A young academic has joined us, and he has some fascinating theories that we're looking at."

"And?" I smiled, "What's his breakthrough?"

"I believe  _he_ is," She said with a bemused look, "We're going to get where we need to be. And soon. Mark my words Sam."

This time she let the grin out, and she turned, leaving me alone to wonder what this new guy's theory might be.

* * *

Another week passed, and I knew from Catherine's silence that something must have happened, but it felt frustrating to be out of the loop.

The doctors had ordered me to rest up as the dehydration from the Salmonella had been severe. Mark, fully recovered, had been at the door several times, full of apologies.

My house was turning into a complete mess, so despite the doctor's orders, I decided to give the place a thorough clean.

When Catherine came to my door I was in my oldest clothes, hair typed back and make-up free, scrubbing at the grout at my kitchen tiles.

I ushered her in and apologised for the mess before fixing her a cup of her favourite tea.

She was very quiet and, reminiscent of that visit from West back in '91, she took a quiet sip of her tea, before setting the teacup on the table.

After a moment's silence, her eyes met mine, and my heart stopped in my chest.

"We did it."

The words didn't really register.

"What do you mean?"

Catherine's expression changed, and she couldn't hide her smile, the biggest I've ever seen.

"Jackson did it. He broke the code, and your interface worked perfectly."

My interface worked? How had they tested it?

"Jackson identified a seventh symbol on the cover stones. The seventh completed the code and allowed the Stargate to activate."

"Stargate?"

"That's the doorway's name. Seems our translation was wrong."

I was open-mouthed, trying to figure out what I could ask next, but what Catherine said with her next breath was more than I could ever have dreamed of.

"We are not alone, Samantha."

* * *

It's been a week since that revelation, and I've had plenty of time to think. I've heard scant details of the Abydos mission and the men (no women) who made history.

I've been told of the native people they encountered there – all human, perhaps of the same species as the fossil we have – and also of the animals which are positively alien.

There were human beings living on another planet, light years away! It's astonishing! They had their own culture, a language similar to one the Ancient Egyptians used, and they even had a Pyramid.

I also know that they were ruled by a malevolent entity that had technology hundreds, if not thousands of years more advanced than our own. An entity who by all accounts committed all manner of atrocities against the Abydonians.

That thought was chilling, but made all the worse by the realisation that Colonel O'Neill had been forced to detonate a nuclear bomb to stop this creature from getting to Earth.

Our First Contacted ended in Genocide – theirs and not ours.

It's like the Antithesis of Hollywood.

The conspiracy nut who figured it all out was Daniel Jackson. Sadly he was killed in the blast, so I'll never get a chance to meet him. Catherine said we'd have got on well.

Despite the car crash of the first mission though, I'm hopeful for the future. We know where the Stargate goes, and if it goes to another planet with life, then that means there must be millions out there waiting to be explored.

It's going to be fun figuring out how to get there.

And I'm never eating Roast Chicken ever again.


	3. Jack

**Jack O'Neill**

**November 1995**

I'm in no mood for this.

It's cold, it's wet, and this house is damn big.

Too empty.

I had to move though - I had nowhere else to go.

Sara doesn't want to know me anymore, and I can't say I blame her. I am solely responsible for the destruction of our marriage, and our lives.

But in the last month or so, I found a new reason to live.

I'm just terrified that my wife won't be lucky enough to find the same.

I've had a high clearance level for years, one of the "perks" I guess, of doing your country's dirty work.

But the knock at the door was still something of a shock.

We'd just buried our son, Charlie.

* * *

**October 1995**

It was my weapon that caused his death. My 9mm which I'd locked away in a safe in our house. But Charlie being Charlie had found the safe code, and being a curious 9 year-old he'd used it.

We'd taken him to the hospital, and hoped for a miracle. But there was no miracle, and our precious boy passed away that night.

To be honest, everything after that is a blur. I barely remember the funeral, or the relatives, friends and acquaintances that rallied around us in our hour of need.

I just sat there thinking, and torturing myself, about how things could have, and should have been different. How our boy should still be here. How I should have been more responsible as a father, an officer and a gun owner.

I sat and wallowed, the only time I'd had a thought for anyone other than myself was Sara. Sometimes she'd come into whatever room I was sitting in, and just stare at me, her eyes unreadable.

I don't know if she was worried about me, or if she hated me, so I tried not to meet her gaze.

I'd experienced depression before, and come out the other side more or less okay, but this was a whole different level, and the pain was all encompassing. Every breath of it suffocated me.

And I felt like I couldn't go on any longer.

I'd taken myself up to his room, neat as a pin thanks to Sara, and full of Charlie's favourite things. Unknown to Sara, I'd kept my gun when the police returned it after the investigation, and now I found myself sitting on my son's bed, clutching the very thing which had killed him.

I was giving serious thought to using it again when I heard the door. More well-wishers I assumed.

Instead I heard the familiar impersonal sound of standard issue shoes against the bare wood of our stairs, and I felt two figures stand at the entrance to my son's room.

As I relinquished the gun, sliding it under Charlie's pillow, the two men announced that they were from General West's Office, and I needed to report to Cheyenne Mountain by tomorrow morning.

I'd not acknowledged them, but they left as soon as their message had been relayed, and that left me to explain to Sara what was going on.

"Well?"

"I've to report to Cheyenne Mountain tomorrow morning."

Sara was stunned, and hurt, "You're on compassionate leave. They can't just order you to go back to work."

"Yes, they can, and I'm going," I heard myself say.

Sara looked at me, both aghast and perplexed, "What?"

"I do my duty," was all I could muster up to justify my decision.

"So…After everything we've just been through, you're going to turn tail and run away just because they tell you to jump? I – I don't understand you!"

"Sara-"

"No," she put a palm up, "I'm done. I don't wanna hear it."

The next day, after an evening of deathly silence in our house, I arrived at Cheyenne Mountain as ordered. I'd managed to get a quick trim on the way there. When I mean trim I mean buzz cut. It was easily the shortest my hair has ever been.

I entered the Mountain and checked in, before heading to sub-level 4 where I was told I would meet General West.

After a quick stop at sub-level 4, General West appeared and shook my hand.

"Colonel O'Neill, thank you for coming in. I understand that this is a difficult time for you, and should you wish to return to your compassionate leave, we will be happy to let you go."

"Thank you sir."

"If you'd like to follow me," he said, directing me towards another elevator.

The elevator began a fast descent, and General West turned to me "We're going to lower levels of the complex – the old missile testing area."

I nodded, I was aware of it's existence. It wasn't a state secret that Cheyenne Mountain was bigger than just NORAD, but the Powers that Be ensured it wasn't talked about that much.

"We're drafting you into this project at short notice Colonel, so we'll need to get you up to speed ASAP. Suffice it to say we've got a mission that's got your name written all over it."

I raised an eyebrow at this comment. We were inside a mountain for crying out loud. What kind of mission could they want or need me for?

The elevator continued to count levels, and before long we arrived at level 27. The doors opened to a hive of activity, with various civilians, airmen and officers hurrying along the corridors. The bodies in the corridor instinctively moved out of West's way, and I followed him, now flanked by two guards, to his office.

The back wall of his office was made of glass with what looked like a star chart or a map inscribed on it. Beyond that was another room, dominated by a large meeting table. A few scientists clad in lab coats were scurrying about in there, setting up for a briefing by the looks of it. I noticed with curiosity that the briefing room had a row of windows, but the view was obscured by a giant blast door.

"Have a seat Colonel."

I obliged, and sat down, now maintaining eye contact with West.

"I'll get to the point," he began, "We have no time left to be beating about the bush.

"Beyond that blast door, we have an ancient artefact, discovered in Egypt back in the 20s, and all of our top minds believe it is of alien origin."

"Alien? As in…"

"Alien Alien. Not of this world, Colonel."

This had to be a joke. Seriously.

"Okay?"

West ignored my tone and continued, "We've been trying to get this device to work on and off since the '40s. And in the last 50 years, we've never been this close. Our head scientist, Catherine Langford has just recruited a new translator, and she has confidence that he will make this device work. Our own people have already created a computer interface that will allow us to utilise the device when the code is finally cracked."

I had nothing to say to West. In all honesty what could I say? Luckily the General continued.

"Our top minds believe that this device, which they call the Door to Heaven, will allow us to travel to another world. We could be ready to do within a few weeks, and if we are correct, we may only get one shot at sending a manned mission. We would like you to lead it."

My eyes widened. "You want me, to lead a mission, to another planet?!"

"Essentially, yes."

I stood and blew out a breath and paced the small length of the office, running my fingers through my now non-existent hair.

"Permission to speak freely sir?"

"Granted."

"Is this a joke?!"

West sighed, and picked up the red telephone on his desk, "Raise the blast door."

As the door moved, I looked out of window, and saw the scientists preparing the briefing room pause and walk to the edge of the room to peer out of the windows. West was on his feet and out of the office before me. I hurried to follow him and caught him at the windows.

And that was when I saw it. The Door to Heaven in all it's glory.

Impressive.

* * *

Over the next couple of weeks I was left in charge while West headed to Washington to get authorisation from the President for our mission. I was introduced to my team, and to most of the scientists working with the Doorway which the new guy, Jackson, informed us should actually be called the Stargate.

Jackson cracked the code, and at the eleventh hour uncovered the seventh symbol needed to activate the Stargate. As soon as he'd informed us of the discovery, West ordered us to be ready for immediate departure if a connection was made.

I watched in awe, and terror, as the massive flood of 'water' enveloped the embarkation room in a chilling white light. I stood in the briefing room with the brass, and the fear was palpable. We sent a probe, and it confirmed a breathable atmosphere on the other side.

Our mission was a go.

* * *

I can't really describe my feelings as Jackson, my team and I made our way up that ramp. If I'm honest, it was sheer terror, mixed with determination.

Our mission might have been labelled as one of reconnaissance, but the people at the top had other ideas, and my job as team leader equated to a suicide mission – If we found alien life that could prove a threat to life on Earth, it was my job to neutralise it, by detonating a nuclear warhead.

The mission went south as soon as we made it through the Stargate. Jackson had lied about knowing how to operate the Stargate on the other end, and for a while we were stranded.

Over the next few days, we became acquainted with the people of Abydos and their way of life. But I was on automatic pilot, completely blocking out everything but my mission.

The fact that I'd just made First Contact with aliens on behalf of the Planet Earth was barely a flicker in my mind, and deep down I knew I wasn't really stable enough to be a mission commander.

But that instability was why they had picked me. They knew how depressed I was. Just about anyone would be suicidal in my situation.

They needed someone they were sure would carry out a suicide mission. That was the reason I was picked.

But if our mission hadn't already descended into calamity, it certain did when Ra showed up, and we witnessed the wrath of this ruthless monster inflicted upon a simple and harmless people.

We found ourselves fighting to save the Abydonians, and Earth, and along the way, seeing the Abydonian boys fighting for a better life, and seeing Jackson step up to the mark and find love along the way, I drew out of my depression just a little…Just enough.

I detonated the bomb, but waited until it was aboard Ra's spaceship before I set it off, and I allowed Jackson to stay behind with his new wife, and I returned home.

My team and I lied to West, and to the President, telling them that we had indeed eliminated all alien life on the other side.

And so the mission was over, and the Stargate Programme was mothballed for the foreseeable future.

But I didn't care. I'd done my bit.

Now I could get on with building some sort of new life for myself and Sara, or so I thought.

Sara however had quite wisely decided that we both needed a fresh start. In my absence she had packed up my belongings and had started divorce proceedings.

She didn't want to talk to me.

I respected her wishes, put most of my gear in storage, and moved into a motel until last week, when I bought this place.

It's nice I guess. Split over two levels, back garden bordered by woodland. A nice little den, and a bit of a fixer-upper so I can keep myself occupied.

It's a tough job moving, especially since I keep finding things I thought were Sara's as I unpack boxes. I notice there's only a precious few of Charlie's possessions. But then again I can't blame Sara for not wanting to let go.

Best thing about this new house is the roof terrace where I've got my telescope mounted and I can watch the stars at night, and dream about what else might be up there.

But I don't want to get caught up looking back. It's too painful, and I'm worried if I don't keep moving forward, I might end up back in the dark place I was in before the Abydos mission.

I will never forget Charlie. I will never stop grieving for him. Or for Sara and our marriage.

But life goes on, not just here, but all over the universe.


	4. Daniel

**Daniel Jackson**

**October 1995**

I watched Jack go through the Stargate, and seconds later, the 'puddle' vanished, leaving me standing inside the great Pyramid of Abydos, surrounded by my new 'family'.

A few seconds after the puddle disappeared, it really hit me what I had just agreed to.

I was alone, on an alien planet with a language I could barely speak.

I turned to face Sha're and felt a wave of love and gratitude for this quiet but brilliant woman. She smiled at me in return. A smile like no other.

And I knew I'd made the right decision.

Our small caravan now trekked across the Abydonian desert. Kasuf had quite wisely order the bulk of the Guerrilla Army to return to the City as soon as victory over Ra had been assured, and the Stargate buried, with only he, Sha're, Skaara and the boys staying behind to say goodbye to Colonel O'Neill's team.

Our journey was mostly silent. Sha're was shy about talking to me when other people were nearby, and the others still gazed at me like I was an animal at the zoo. My every action still fascinated and amused them.

As we walked, I did ask them a few questions about their world.

" _Is it all desert?"_

" _What is desert?" was Skaara's response._

" _All this sand," I answered, picking up a handful._

" _What else would there be?" was Skaara's perplexed reply._

So that was clear. These people knew nothing other than desert, and they had quite likely never seen a forest, or a lake, or the sea.

That was something that really boggled my mind. Almost every person on planet Earth knows what a desert looks like. What a forest looks like. What the ocean looks like.

Even the 'Uncontacted Tribes' of the Amazon trade with their fellow 'Contacted' Tribes and wear football tops and flip flops, so it's a safe assertion that some sort of print media's made it's way to their villages to show them what the rest of the world looks like (and it's probably part of the reason they've decided not to engage with the rest of the world).

This revelation about the Abydonians was one of a number of things I realised would take some getting used to.

The silence for the rest of the journey allowed me to really let the last few weeks sink in.

Was it really less than three weeks since my peers had finally turned their backs on me and my crazy theories? Less than three weeks since Catherine had given me an offer she knew I could not refuse?

I had nothing on earth, except for a few battered suitcases, a ruined reputation, and my dignity.

I had lost almost nothing by deciding to stay on Abydos, but I had gained more than I thought I ever could.

It was stunning to me at first, to realise that an old lady agreed with me. I agreed with the scientific angle of my work, but as no-one else agreed with it, I could never agree with what I was writing with all my heart. But I felt my spirits soar when I realised Catherine may believe me.

My spirit felt a little chilled however when I realised she'd done a background check on me.

Nevertheless I'd taken her up on her job offer and before long I was being escorted through the corridors of a secret military complex.

She explained they'd found artefacts that predated Ancient Egypt as the world knew it. She also explained that no linguist, and later, paleolinguist they had on board had been able to make heads or tails what the hieroglyphs meant. That was easy – because one look confirmed to me that they weren't hieroglyphs.

Who on earth had they been hiring?

For two solid weeks I had focused solely on the Stargate – who on earth translated that as 'Door to Heaven'? – and ignored the various jibes that came my way, such as "he's full of shit", courtesy of Colonel O'Neill.

Finally – and accidentally – I cracked the code, and I was brimming with confidence that I could do the same on the other side.

It was only I'd opined that it would be a piece of cake that the reality of what was going on had hit me.

The Stargate could go to another planet.

And the Stargate worked.

At the very least that meant humanity at some point in the distant past had been to another planet. But where had the technology come from?

From the Aliens I'd theorised used the Pyramids as landing platforms!

Aliens existed!

We were  _not_ alone!

All the while my ego reminded me that it was me who had proved aliens existed.

Now we were going to another world! We could be meeting those aliens.

I mean seriously! Me making first contact!

I'd had a momentary thought of it making the news, and myself going back to my old academic stomping grounds and rubbing peoples' faces in it when it also hit me.

No-one's ever going to know about this.

The US Military was in charge. They would deny everything.

And there was no way I could return to Earth and live a lie.

So, after I'd ensured I'd be picked for the mission, it had always been at the back of my mind that for me at least, returning home wasn't my only option.

I'd been happy beyond reason when we made it through the Stargate. We'd trudged several hundred yards through the sand and seen only sand, but we turned back to see a massive pyramid, perhaps even bigger than any on Earth, and this one was crowned by a halo of three alien moons.

I was ecstatic, which was a hard thing to be in a baking desert surrounded by whining military men.

First Contact was certainly memorable.

Yes, First Contact was with a Mastadge – an alien Yak-like thing that loved chocolate…and attempted to drag me through the sand dunes to death, and then lick me to death.

Still it was our first interaction with a bona fide alien, and it did lead us straight to the mine, so all's well that ends well.

Of course, that led us straight to the Abydonians, and Colonel O'Neill being Colonel O'Neill just expected me to able to speak to them.

The talking didn't come later, until after Sha're had been 'gifted' to me and had shown me where the stone tablet was with Earth's address.

I still can't believe a man would 'give' me his daughter.

I still can't believe I've accepted. Never in a million years would I think I would do something so… fundamentally wrong, and have it feel so right.

But Sha're.

Wow.

Just…wow! I've never clicked with someone so quickly. She's is amazing. Stunning in every way. And when her eyes meet mines, I want to want to melt into a puddle.

Yes, I've got it bad.

I'm looking forward to my life with Sha're, and I know we'll have a happy one.

The city might be a bit of a mess, the Abydonian's ways a bit archaic for most peoples' liking. But these people have been enslaved for god knows how long. I'm looking forward to seeing what they'll accomplish now they've been given a change. They're very resourceful – they're thriving in the middle of a Sahara-like desert, and that is no mean feat, even for modern people on Earth.

I'm looking forward to learning from them, and hopefully them learning a little from me. I want to be a full part of their culture, not merely an observer.

I also don't want to simply step back and watch. I'm worried if I do, I may grow homesick.

Who knows? I may even go back there someday – and hopefully Catherine would have figured out from the necklace that I was still alive.

More worlds must be inhabited other than just Earth and Abydos. Maybe other – hopefully nicer – aliens will come by.

Maybe the Stargate goes to other places?

Maybe I'll just need to have a look round this new, ancient world, and find out.


	5. Hammond

**George Hammond**

**May 1996**

They weren't lying when they said it was a special posting they were giving me to end my career on.

The chair of the Joint Chiefs shook my hand as I accepted a position in Colorado Springs that I knew nothing about.

There was a glint in General David McManus, the Air Force's Chief of Staff's eye, as he'd offered it to me. That glint, and knowing Dave as well as I did were all it took for me to say yes.

Conveniently it was where my daughter and her family stayed, so it was all the more reason to take the posting.

I took it because I'd get to see my granddaughters more often!

But something was fishy about the assignment from the get go, and things only got stranger when I was escorted to my new posting.

I'd thought my new posting would likely be at Peterson, and that I would likely receive some gentle nudging to get involved with the Air Force Academy as my retirement loomed, but instead we were driven to Cheyenne Mountain.

The journey would take me down to the lower levels of the complex and down to the old missile test centre I'd once helped to guard…

It couldn't be. Could it?

* * *

**August 4** **th** **1969**

Somehow four Russians had managed to infiltrate Cheyenne Mountain, and my superiors believed that they were planning to sabotage our missiles. Indeed one launch had been scrubbed shortly before I'd been asked to go through the intruder's belongings. I'd picked up a small tac vest, and found a piece of paper with my name on it.

But it was in my writing.

The note on the other side said:

_Help Them,_

_August 10_ _th_ _, 9.15am_

_August 11_ _th_ _, 6.03pm_

To say the note confused me would be an understatement. I was scared stiff.

If these intruders were Russians, what would the Air Force think? What would I be implicated in? I had to find the opportunity to confront them to find out what they were doing, and why they'd involved me.

I was ordered to transport them to a holding facility in New Mexico. We'd been on the road for four hours when we pulled over near Santa Fe to switch from one bus to another. I saw the four intruders being led by my colleagues from our old bus to the new one, and that's when I seized my opportunity. While no-one was looking, I slashed one of the tires. Not enough to puncture it there and then, but enough for it to blow out not that far down the road.

Just outside of Albuquerque, the tire blew, and I advised that I would keep an eye on the prisoners.

I entered the back of the bus and demanded answers.

I will always remember the look on the woman's face after I asked who had given them the note. Her eyes darted to my name badge and she uttered "Oh my god," with a look of astonishment.

She told me her name was Samantha Carter, and she told me that  _I_ had given her the note, and she called me sir.

Her next words shocked me further as she looked at the bespectacled man opposite her and told him that "General Hammond" had given her the note.

I further explained my situation to them and asked why should I help them knowing it would lead to a court martial for me at best?

They told me it had been  _my_ idea to help them! Of all the ludicrous stories! And they said I wouldn't decide to help them for another thirty years.

It was crazy, so I calmly informed them I couldn't help them and turned to leave. The man with the glasses pleased with me to stay, saying they could prove their story.

They used the moon landings to try and convince me. Problem was,  _everyone_  knew about the moon landings.

But the older man? He knew I'd watched it from my Dad's bedside after his  _first_ heart attack. Did that mean he'd have another one?

The older man began to tell me that they were only in 1969 as proof that thirty years ago,  _their_ General Hammond – i.e. me – had chosen to help them.

He was doing a pretty good job of convincing me to act when I glanced once more at Samantha Carter.

Samantha Carter – who looked very much like my friend Jacob Carter's wife – told me that they had travelled back in time almost 30 years.

Seeing as how Jacob and Jean had welcomed their daughter Samantha into the world the previous Christmas, and seeing as how the woman in front of me was the spit of Jean and looked to be about thirty, I truly began to believe them.

It was too elaborate a set up to have actually been a set up.

I kept eye contact with the older man, almost as if I were trying to confirm his sincerity, when I made my mind up.

I was going to help.

I uncuffed them and grazed a wound on Samantha Carter's hand. I apologised if I'd hurt her, and she informed me that she was a Captain, and she couldn't quite keep the amusement out of her voice as she called me lieutenant.

It was a funny moment for me too to realise that one day this woman would call me sir and would want to giggle about the thought of me being a lieutenant.

The older man said he only wanted to knock out the other men escorting them, so I handed them one of their strange looking weapons which he said would do the trick.

I then pretended they'd freed themselves and the other two lieutenants jumped around to my position, only to get stunned by the prisoners' ray gun. Seconds later I complied in letting them raid the van that accompanied us that stored their belongings. I watched in shock as the ray gun vaporised the boxes all their gadgets (and all our evidence) were stored in.

Finally, I effectively let them mug me (though they said they'd pay back with interest) and agreed to keep everything I'd seen a secret. Then they used their ray gun on me, to stop me from getting court martialled.

Next thing I knew, it was dark, and a Colonel was slapping my face to wake me up.

We were all thoroughly questioned. But there was no reprimand, and no court martial.

* * *

I'd got on with my life, trying not to remember the "1969 incident" all that much because as time progressed, and humanity's scientific accomplishments lagged further and further behind where science fiction told us we should be, I began to doubt the whole incident. Maybe I'd made it in my mind up to get over the guilt of possibly helping the Commies.

I'd never met Jacob's daughter, and I'd only ever seen pictures of her as a little girl, so I couldn't corroborate her appearance with that of the Samantha Carter I'd met.

Eventually, a point came where I no longer cared to remember the incident, and consigned it to a small part of my mind, where all my jumbled up memories were stored, and got on with my life and career.

And that career had led me here, to Cheyenne Mountain, where it had all began.

* * *

The Elevator took us to Level 27 which if memory served was split over at least two levels to make space for a missile test chamber.

I was walked along and into the old briefing room where the civilian scientists that developed our rockets had usually had breakfast all those years ago, opting to eat separately from the air force personnel who ate in the commissary.

Those scientists were long gone, and in their place were boxes and boxes of files.

General West who had accompanied me to the mountain advised me that I had plenty of time to read over the files, and that I could put my feet up and enjoy the read of a lifetime. I was also informed that a Dr. Meyers would be along in a moment to give me the 'lowdown'.

As soon as West left, I headed for the stack of boxes, but Dr. Meyers beat me to it.

"General Hammond!" he beamed, "Welcome to the most exciting place on earth!"

I regarded him for a minute, and took a look around.

My new office was fastidiously clean, the briefing room free of all recent life, and staffing at the bare minimum. So much for exciting.

Meyers seemed to pick up on this and smiled, "Well I could see how you'd think otherwise sir, but seriously? We live in very interesting times."

He grinned as he opened the lid of the first file box, "I've taken a job at Area 51. I don't know if you're aware or not, but it does exist."

I was aware, not that I knew much about it.

"Since you've only got a limited amount of time for me to get you up to speed, I'll make it short and sweet."

The man came up and put an arm around my shoulders and turned me to face the windows of the briefing room, blocked off by the blast doors.

"Beyond the blast door is the most precious thing on this Earth. There is nothing that can, or will ever, compete with it."

"A time machine?" I asked, given the 1969 incident.

"No sir," Meyers said curtly, "though maybe a TARDIS would be cooler now that you mention it."

I had no idea what a Tardis was, so I let the comment go before the exuberant man continued.

"Beyond the blast door is the Stargate, a 'Door to Heaven'," he said in a grandiose manner.

"What's a Stargate?"

Meyers turned to face me and blinked before treating me to an irreverent smirk, "It's an alien device that goes to the planet Abydos."

"The planet what?!" I explained.

Meyers however, made his way back to the stack of boxes and retrieved a file from the open box. He carefully set it on the table and made his way to the door.

"Enjoy your reading General, and make sure you start with the Stargate 101…I've got a plane to catch!"

With that, Meyers was gone, his comments still rattling around inside my head.

I made my way back to the table quickly, knowing it was likely I would be interrupted by whomever had been appointed as either my aide or my second-in-command, so I flipped open the file and began reading.

_If you're lucky enough to be reading this, may I be among the first to welcome you to Project Stargate, formerly known as the Creek Mountain Project, It was my great privilege to be a part of Project Stargate while it was in its active phase. Although our primary mission objective of making the Stargate work was achieved, and although our secondary mission objective of making first contact with alien intelligence was also achieved, our mission in understanding this truly unique device has only just begun._

I stopped for a minute. First contact with Aliens?

As Jacob would say, "Holy Hannah!"

So we'd done it! We'd discovered Aliens, but we'd kept it all to ourselves. It felt both elated but a little sad at the same time, though I knew full well the Brass would have their reasons.

Though still, what a revelation!

I suddenly realised that I'd gotten this assignment probably as a thank you for my work over the years. What a payoff – the ultimate question finally, definitively answered!

Somewhere up there my late wife Margaret was smiling on me. There was no other explanation.

I continued reading.

_This document contains an overview of the Stargate and the Abydos Mission. Any other questions you have will likely be answered by the Project group's extensive catalogue of notes. The Stargate will likely lie dormant for many years to come, but with each new wave of research we uncover more and more about the device and its origins._

_Again, I hope this Primer and the research files you have been given clearance for will provide you with the answers for the questions you will no doubt have at this point, but I have included my details at the back of this file should you wish to contact any member of the Project Team, past of present, for more information._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Captain Samantha Carter, PhD. USAF_

_Area 51 – Stargate Research_

Samantha Carter? Well I'll be damned!


	6. Walter

**Walter Harriman**

**August 1997**

I've booked my place in history, and it was almost by accident.

One day I'm doing mundane office-type stuff at Peterson, ordering about a few Tech Sergeants unlucky enough to have the same posting as me, and the next thing I know I'm being bundled into a car with a handful of other personnel – none of whom I know – and being dumped at Cheyenne Mountain.

In the past I was given a higher security clearance than someone in my position usually has as a matter of convenience for some of the 'higher-ups' for a classified operation I don't really want to go into. And when there was an incident at Cheyenne Mountain, General Hammond had requested support staff as soon as possible. En-route to the Mountain, my security clearance was upped again, and myself and a few other people were led down to the lower levels of the mountain, down to level 28. We all knew that this was an old test centre for our missiles during the Cold War, but what could be down there that would need us?

One of the Tech Sergeants who had been 'drafted' so-to-speak from the Air Force Academy, made a quip about Chernobyl and it's infamous 'Liquidators'. A scowl from the Major who accompanied us quickly silenced the young man.

We were led quickly into a room full of monitors and control panels and I was guided to a seat in the centre of the room, looking out at a window blocked off by a blast door.

A second later the same Major – Kawalsky - who'd accompanied us came in with some files.

"Sorry we don't have much time, but we've had a big incident down here, and we needed people ASAP. Long story short – the device on the other side of the blast door goes to other planets and we were just attacked by aliens. All the guys who used to work here got reassigned, mostly to Area 51, so we need you to learn the ropes very quickly. Read those manuals and call us when you're done. The phone is just here," he finished, pointing to the receiver sitting on the wall that led out of the control room.

Kawalsky left the room at speed, leaving myself and the tech Sergeants feeling very perplexed.

"So there's a spaceship through there?" said a young female Staff sergeant who stood further back in the room.

"Sure sounds like it," muttered the same Tech who'd made the Chernobyl gag.

As the ranking NCO in the room, I decided it was up to me to set the example.

"I'm sure they'll explain it all to us later, right now we've got a job to do."

I flicked open the manual that Kawalsky had given me and started reading. My gentle nudging seemed to work and the other four NCOs followed suit.

I was barely on the first page when my heart started beating irregularly. I don't know if it was stopping or beating too fast, but I felt a little well, out of myself as I read.

This just didn't feel real.

_The console in front of you is an essential component of the most important computer in Stargate Operations, and by extension, perhaps the entire planet._

_Through use of this Dialling Computer, we can effectively 'dial' the Stargate and create an artificial wormhole between Earth and the Planet Abydos._

_Abydos is currently uninhabitable as the Abydos mission team were forced to detonate a nuclear device in close proximity to its Stargate. We believe there is a chance that Stargate on Abydos may be intact as its composition is extremely dense._

_Due to the slim chance that we may receive contact from Abydos, the Abydos address has been included in this manual._

_IT IS ESSENTIAL THAT THIS ADDRESSED IS MEMORISED BY ALL STAFF WHO HAVE ACCESS TO THE STARGATE CONTROL ROOM._

"Holy Cow!" said the Staff Sergeant, whose name I would soon learn was Laura Westerholm.

"Sergeant?"

"We found aliens!" She exclaimed.

"We can't know that just because we've been to another planet," God that was a strange sentence to say, "We went to the moon, but there were no Martians."

"No, sir. My manual says we did. They were called the Abydonians, and they were ruled by another alien."

"What?!"

I continued reading for a few more minutes, and eventually in my own manual I found reference to the Abydonians, one by the name of 'Sha-Ray' who had apparently helped the Abydos team find their way home.

This was ludicrous, preposterous, downright terrifying, and beyond amazing.

I never had a chance to turn back to Westerholm when Kawalsky appeared again.

"Okay guys – and girl – I'm getting ready for a briefing and I've been advised to head up a few levels and wait for that briefing to beginning. Captain Ladbroke will be keeping an eye on you for the timebeing, and your orders are to be on alert, so please ensure those manuals get memorised."

"Yes sir," we said in unison.

Kawalsky smiled, "Quite the story isn't it? If I'm allowed I'll give you the first-hand account later. Right now General Hammond has advised he's got five minutes to spare. If you head on up those stairs, he'll answer as many questions as he's able."

We all watched Kawalsky walk away and after a moment's hesitation we headed up the winding metal staircase to level 27, where I was half-prepared to find out that this was all an elaborate set up.

Hammond must have heard us approach, as he began talking before we'd even made it up the stairs.

"You've got five minutes before I need to debrief the leader of the Abydos mission, so I will need to be brief.

"Thank you for stepping in like this. I know you didn't have much say in the matter, but we needed people we had already trusted with highly classified material."

As Hammond spoke, we heard the blast door beginning to rise, but Hammond didn't skip a beat.

"I realise this is all a shock. It certainly was for me when I learned the full story of the Stargate," Hammond's nod prompted the five of us to turn around and look out of the windows.

The Stargate was huge and exuded age. It must be ancient.

Again, the moment didn't feel quite real, but Hammond's voice reigned my panic – and my imagination – back in.

"You've only just begun to read about the Stargate, but we need you at the consoles operating the dialling computer within twenty minutes. As far as I'm aware it's easier than it looks, and we only need basic functionality for now.

"As for why you were needed so suddenly, I'll be blunt – A few hours ago, there was an incursion into the embarkation room. A Senior Airman, Carol Weterings was captured by unknown hostile aliens, and her fellow guards were slaughtered as they tried to defend their positions."

Hammond paused for a moment, seemingly collecting his thoughts.

"Until earlier today we believed that this kind of attack would be impossible. Abydos was irradiated and the inhabitants killed. As this attack of theirs was successful, we are on high alert and are readying for another attack, as well as a mission to retrieve Airman Weterings.

"Master Sergeant Harriman, we will be relying on you to be able to dial the Stargate and to respond quickly should another incursion to occur. The rest of you will need to be at your posts, studying the telemetry the Dialing Computer gathered during the attack. You will also need how to dial the computer, should Sergeant Harriman be compromised."

I really didn't like that comment, although it was plausible that aliens coming through the Stargate might try to shoot us.

Hammond suddenly changed track, "Any questions?"

We all shook our heads, and I muttered "No."

Well I did and I didn't. I didn't have any at that moment, but I would need some time to write them all down.

Hammond seemed pleased there was nothing needing answered immediately, "Good. Thank you, and please return to your stations."

Slightly perplexed, and decided unnerved, I returned to my station at the Dialling computer and tried to focus all of my energies on reading and memorising the manual.

It wasn't long before other NCOs and a few officers started arriving in the control room, and they were obviously people who knew all about the Stargate. But I was horrified seconds later when I saw a team of officers wheel a bomb into the embarkation room.

There had been a terse conversation between Hammond and a tall man, clearly military, in a leather Jacket, but almost as soon as they'd arrived in the Embarkation Room, they'd left it again, and about ten minutes later the warhead was wheeled away.

I'd only just relaxed when Hammond, Kawalsky, another Major, and the man in the leather jacket arrived in the Control Room with some urgency.

I almost ended myself there and then when Hammond ordered me to dial Abydos.

I could do this.

And I did, shouting out as each Chevron was successfully encoded by the Dialling Computer. I could hear them talking behind me, but the words were meaningless as I focused solely on completing the dialling procedure. I felt immense relief as the sequence was completed, followed by complete awe as the Stargate burst into life. The event horizon resembled a puddle and the light that radiated from it was almost blinded.

I watched as the man in the leather jacket walked into the Embarkation room without fear, clutching…was that a box of tissues?

I wasn't the only one that was confused, but Hammond showed no sign of objection as the man threw the box of tissues into the event horizon.

Shortly after it was through, the Stargate shut down of it's own volition and I let out the breath I'd been holding.

At least I didn't need to ask how to turn it off!

As soon as the Stargate was dormant, Hammond, Kawalsky, Samuels (I'd heard him being called) and the man in the leather jacket left again, only to return less than ten minutes later as the Stargate began to spin. I thought on the spot and shouted "Incoming Wormhole!" into the speaker. That combined with the bone-jarring shaking that accompanied the Stargate's activation soon brought everyone back to the control room.

The box of tissues now returned, and apparently this made O'Neill, as I now knew he was called, very happy.

Once more the 'higher-ups' were off upstairs, and I allowed myself the luxury of slouching in my seat.

I'd only been on the base for little over an hour. What a baptism of fire!

I continued to operate the main console of the dialling computer for the second mission to Abydos and again when O'Neill's team went to another planet, this one we would learn was called Chulak.

And I was at my station when he and his team returned with a couple dozen aliens a day or so later!

Hammond was very pleased with my service during the first week of active Stargate operations, and I was offered a permanent role at Stargate Command if I wanted it.

I didn't need to think about it, and said yes on the spot.

Now It's my job to sit here and keep the dialling computer ticking over. I dial the gate as needed and deploy the iris – our new defence – if it is needed.

The President commissioned nine Stargate teams to begin to work through a list of planets that Dr. Daniel Jackson had discovered on Abydos, so Stargate Command was very busy with more staff arriving by the day.

It's only been a few weeks since that first mission, and the reality of what we're doing's only just truly sinking in.

I might have a desk job while the SG Teams go and do their thing, but I still get to do some of the really cool stuff – like meeting aliens! I even got to speak to the Jaffa, Teal'c, who has requested asylum here.

The only downside is that I leave this mountain every night, bursting to tell my wife all about it, and I know that I can't.

Maybe one day I'll be able to tell her and our boys all about it.


	7. Janet

**Janet Fraiser**

**August 1997**

I wake up with a start, and I realise I've fallen asleep at my desk. My face is stuck to a printout relating to one of my many recent patients.

I am exhausted.

A couple of weeks ago SG1 came into contact with one of the most bizarre viruses I've ever seen.

We've called it the Broca virus, and if untreated, the effects are simply devastating. It affects brain function and causes swelling of the face, and prompts the growth of thick hair all over the body. Beyond the physical effects, it had a deleterious effect on brain function as it in essence regress the human mind back well over a million years in evolutionary terms. Jackson likened the sufferers on P3X-797 to Australopithecus – a human species that lived four million years ago,

The cure was a simple one, but the virus was so contagious that the bulk of our staff caught it before they could start to work on finding the cure.

Although we found the solution, I'm not afraid to admit that the situation scared me witless, especially when General Hammond issued the order for anyone escaping the mountain to be shot on sight, and for their body to be burned.

But the situation has thankfully been resolved, my report has been submitted and now I'm trying to put together a paper on the virus.

Not that I can get properly started on the paper. Between dealing with sentient crystals, rogue officers trying to fry people alive with UV radiation, and all the routine bumps and scrapes our guys keeping getting out there…

I've barely got time to sleep these days.

Still I have no real reason to moan.

I've been handed the opportunity of a lifetime…

* * *

**July 1997**

It wasn't long after my marriage had ended when Colonel O'Neill arrived on my doorstep.

My husband had finally had enough of not being the breadwinner, though to be honest I don't know why we'd stayed together are long as we had. We'd been together since we were teenagers, and he could never handle that I was more successful than him. He didn't want me to become a doctor, and he hadn't wanted me to become and Air Force Officer either. He ran a busy auto shop, but after we took away our running costs, it didn't give us much money, leaving my pay to cover most of the bills.

I'd just made Captain, and I guess the pay rise was the final straw.

So now I was footloose and fancy free, or as footloose and fancy free as a US Air Force MD can be.

Any sense of personally freedom I felt I may gained however, evaporated as soon Colonel O'Neill arrived at my porch.

"Captain Fraiser?"

"Doctor Fraiser," I corrected, prompting a confused look from the Colonel.

"Okay…Doctor…Mind if I come in?"

"Of course sir, please just mind the mess, I've just moved."

Colonel O'Neill stepped through my front door and stood in the living room until I asked him to take a seat.

I'm always a little nervous when senior officers visit. You never know what they want, or what bad news they have to tell you.

"Coffee?"

"No thank you Doctor. I'm not stopping for long."

I grabbed myself a quick glass of water and sat opposite the Colonel.

"We have a job we'd like to offer you."

"Okay." I said, slightly confused.

I worked at the Air Force Academy Hospital. I was happy with my job. This would have to be pretty good if I was going to accept.

There was a moment of silence, and I realised O'Neill wasn't going to say anything else unless I did.

"Where would this job be?"

"At Cheyenne Mountain."

I wracked my brain for a minute. Cheyenne Mountain? Were they wanting rid of me? What could there possibly be for me to do at a Deep Space Radar Telemetry research unit? Deal with stubbed toes and runny noses?

"Thank you for the offer sir, but I am very happy with my current job at the Academy Hospital."

"I think you're going to like the job we're offering you Doctor."

"Then by all means tell me about it sir."

O'Neill grimaced slightly, "I can't do that here, and you'd need to accept before I could go into any detail. Suffice it to say it will be well worth your time, and you'd be crazy to say no."

"Forgive me sir, but can you actually tell me  _anything_  about it?"

"Need to know."

Talk about putting me on the spot! Was I intrigued? Yes. Was I convinced? No.

O'Neill started talking again, "Let's just put it this way. I'm asking you if you want this job. I can take a yes or a no from you. But if you give me a no, there's every chance that the people higher up the chain might just order you to the Mountain."

I understood O'Neill's meaning. Taking this job was not a choice, meaning that it being classed as 'need to know' was no joke. Sometimes I knew better than to be stubborn.

"Okay sir, you've convinced me."

* * *

I reported to the mountain at 0700 the very next morning, and my stomach was doing cartwheels. I was met on sub-level 4 by a smiling O'Neill.

As we stepped into another elevator and the doors closed, he looked at and flashed me a schoolboy smile.

"You won't regret this."

We were in the heart of the complex, and I was led to a large briefing room. Two officers sat at the table in the briefing room, and I could see a General sitting in an office to the left.

"Doctor Fraiser, I'd like you to meet Major Samuels and Captain Carter. Carter's also a doctor, but she prefers Captain to doctor, and people wonder why I get confused."

Carter, whose name I'd learn was Sam grinned and extended a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you Doctor Fraiser."

Samuels extended a hand too, but he was all business, "Doctor Fraiser."

I took a seat at the table, next to O'Neill and opposite Carter and Samuels.

The General needed no prompting and joined us seconds later.

As he took his seat at the head of the table, I glimpsed the top of a dark round structure in the adjacent room. I had no idea what it was, but it dominated the old silo it was housed in.

"Doctor Fraiser, I'm General Hammond and I'd like to welcome you to the Stargate Programme."

"Uhm, thank you sir," I responded, extending my hand to him, "Stargate Programme?"

General Hammond regarded me with a knowing smile, "I suppose you're wondering what that is."

I glanced around the table. O'Neill's smile matched Hammond's, while Sam was positively grinning. Samuels' face was unreadable.

Sam began to speak, "Through those windows is the Stargate – an alien device capable of giving us the ability to instantaneously travel to hundreds of worlds. The device was created long ago by an alien race and we've been researching the device and it's capabilities on and off since the 1940s. We finally got it working in 1995, but it's only really been within the last two months that we've actively started using it to send teams to other worlds. Some of our missions are proving quite dangerous, and we've already had fatalities and some serious injuries."

"The long story short Doctor," Hammond interjected, "Is that our current medical team simply isn't big enough to cope with everything we're demanding from them. Dr MacKenzie has been kind enough to remain at the SGC, oversee the medical team and give us his expertise, but he's needed elsewhere, so we're looking for an experienced doctor to become our Chief Medical Officer."

"Uhm…I…I don't know what to say."

These people weren't giving me a minute to absorb what they were telling me.

Other worlds? Interplanetary travel?

"Wow! What an opportunity! I'd love to be a part of this sir!...Something along those lines," quipped O'Neill.

"Well…I was getting to that," I responded, allowing myself a small smile, "It's just a lot of information to take in."

"I'm sure it is," Hammond smiled, "We've set aside some files for you in your office that I think you'll find to be quite fascinating."

"Thank you sir," but there was one thing that was really bugging me, "Captain Carter, you said that the Stargate is of alien origin. Does that mean we're working with aliens?"

"Yes and no," replied Samuels who had been silent until then, "but I'm sure the Captain can explain."

Sam flitted a quick, uncomfortable look at Samuels, "Thank you Major. We have met aliens, yes, but most of the first contacts we've had so far have been with humans living on other worlds. The reason for this is fully explained in the mission files you've been given permission to access. As for actually working with aliens? At present we are working with just one. His name is Teal'c and he is a Jaffa which means he is both human and alien…Again it's all in the files we've got for you.

"Teal'c physiology is remarkable, and it's a priority for study, especially as Teal'c is a defector against our enemy – the Goa'uld."

I was amazed and a little excited by the revelation that we were in direct contact with aliens, but a little concerned by the implication that we'd be using this alien's own physiology to hurt his people.

And why would an alien defect to us?

I was sure I'd get an answer to my questions though.

"In that case, I'd really like to get started on those files. I think I've got a bit of a steep learning curve ahead of me."

Hammond smiled, "Very well. Captain Carter, please can you should Dr. Fraiser to her new office."

I had good vibes off of these people, which was bizarre given what a strange day it had turned out to be. Sam – as she advised I call her – talked to me about her history with the programme. About how they'd got the Stargate to work, and the amazing discoveries of the first mission. She explained more about Teal'c and his species – or technically two species – and then she left me alone to read over the files to my leisure.

* * *

The world that opened up to me in those files is truly incredible, awe-inspiring, and scary beyond belief.

We've learned so much about the world, the world out there that is, in such a short amount of time that I am positively giddy with anticipation about what we'll discover next.

The Jaffa and the Goa'uld are extraordinary, and the preserved but messy remains of the symbiote that led to Kawalsky's death has given us a lot to work with, and its physiology is like nothing on earth. It is truly alien.

And given that it's such a basic animal – on it's own it only has one adaptation that's really noteworthy, that's it's ability to link it's nervous system to that of another animal (and no, we don't know quite how they manage it) – but in every other way it's a prehistoric little critter.

But they've clearly got an abundance of intellect, and Teal'c has spoken of new 'joined' symbiotes having innate knowledge of Goa'uld politics and many other things. Does that intelligence come from being incubated by a Jaffa, or are they born with something beyond instinct?

These two species alone are absolutely fascinating and I'm convinced that this job would be worth absolutely anything.

So while I'm working crazy hours and I'm working through more stress than I have ever been under before, the benefits far outweigh any drawbacks.

And I still can't believe I very nearly said no!


	8. Bra'tac

**Bra’tac**

**October 1997**

The boy grows stronger by the day, but I know that it was not our gods, nor his Prim’tah that saved him.

It was his father’s sacrifice and love.

Now as I sit watching the world go by in Chulak city, the thought of Teal’c makes my spirit soar.

He has indeed chosen his friends well, and for perhaps the first time in my many years, I feel real hope for our future.

These Tau’ri led by O’Neill and Hammond Texas are new to the Galaxy. They have fresh eyes and fresh new take on the politics and religion that dominate and oppress all Jaffa.

When Teal’c advised me that these Tau’ri, a people shrouded in myth and folklore, had been held apart from the skies for thousands of years, I could not believe it. Life limited to one sphere was surely no life at all!

We had little time to talk, Teal’c and I – Our circumstances did not permit it as we dodged guards and priests alike while trying to save young Rya'c’s life – but he was able to give me a brief insight into their world.

From my limited knowledge of the Tau’ri, their world seems to be a microcosm of the galaxy. They are split into factions that go by a variety of names – Countries, Nations, States, Regions, Provinces...They are all led differently: Some by democracies both legitimate and false; Others by dictators not all that far removed from our Gods.

They wage wars. They kill each other and they commit many other atrocities.

Just like Jaffa do all over the rest of the galaxy.

It saddens me that this should be the case for the Tau’ri, but Teal’c tells me that this is only part of their story.

Their world has a rich variety of cultures, many reminiscent of the worlds the Jaffa have encountered over the years. Yes there are ethnic and cultural tensions, but for the most part the Tau’ri are proud of the cultures they call their own. They celebrate them through an array of art – music, song, dance, painting, poetry, stories…

The list is endless.

The people in many countries stand up for the rights of those in other countries, and they have a long history of removing damaging leaders.

But above all else, these Tau’ri have seized their destiny. They are in control of their fate. Yes they have a myriad of different religions, but unlike the Jaffa, who are at the mercy of every whim of their God, the Tau’ri follow and interpret religious texts and apply them to their lives in a manner of their own choosing.

They create art to honour their Gods and their heroes. And they also create art for art’s sake.

My mind is drawn back to our own world, where our children, from their earliest years, are forced to only create art for purposes of worship and adulation.

If a child of Chulak were to draw a flower, or a tree, the teacher would soon push them to draw the symbol of Apophis next to them.

Soon the symbols of Apophis dominate every aspect of our children’s schooling, and this saddens me greatly.

It is one of the reasons that I am relieved that I never fathered a child of my own. I would not bring a child into this world as it currently stands.

The Tau’ri not only embrace art as their own, but science, exploration, philosophy and every other aspect of life. Their gods do not dictate their discoveries to them, or their history.

The Tau’ri did not need Apophis to teach them how to arm themselves – they learned that for themselves.

The Tau’ri did not have a god forbid them from writing – they know as well as I the power of words over violence.

They are not perfect, but they are proof that we can thrive without our every action being dictated from above, and for them independence is as natural as breathing.

They may be young, but I am willing to learn from them.

One day my people will learn that independent spirit from our Tau’ri cousins, and we will rise up and create a new nation for all Jaffa.

Until that day I will watch and listen for signs of dissent on Chulak and other worlds. I will gain allies in like-minded Jaffa, and I will protect my family from all our enemies.

Teal’c is the son I never had. His wife and child are as dear to me as my own flesh and blood, and will ensure that they both live to taste freedom.


End file.
